Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Jonathan Michael (red novels .txt) 📖

figs. I cower my head below my arms and step forward under the cover of the foliage. The figs are far from lethal but pack a good sting. I would really like this infuriating animal to stop pestering me.

I reach for a low-hanging branch and snatch several unripe figs of my own, enlarging them to the size of my fist one by one as I hurl them at the ape. The simian successfully bats them away, retreats toward the trunk, and begins howling loudly and rapidly. A monkey-fit, perhaps. No. A call for help. Several more black figures drop into the scene as one ape turns into a half dozen.

Susy’s shits! How do I get myself into these predicaments? A food fight with a gang of apes. Is this even the Redcliffe Crossing? Graytu knew this was going to happen. Gunther warned me of this fool, yet I stepped right into his tigershit anyways. Dammit.

I reach for the nearest bushel and chuck more fist-sized figs in their direction. One after the other, the apes are pelted with almost every shot. But it’s one arm against a half dozen. A fig explodes right between my eyes, reigniting the migraine I awoke with this morning. Curse this place!

As my ammunition dwindles to the last few, our fig frenzy is interrupted by a massive surprise.

Another ape drops from somewhere high in the tree down to the branch overhead and swings to plant its feet on the ground right in front of me. Its magnitude would make the largest man in all of Azure wet himself. Not me, though.

An alpha male in its true form. The black ape is the size of a Cryptid, maybe larger with its simian physique. Death in a black fury cloak. At least this one will make it quick and pulverize me with its brute strength as opposed to slicing me into sandwich meat like the Cryptids would do.

My fingers unfurl and let the remaining figs fall. A fruitlet won’t threaten this beast. It’s time to flee. Unfortunately, I’m stuck between a colossal ape and a leap of suicide.

I turn and leap.

Reaching for the lowest plumage of the branch, I squeeze it and accrete layers to the small twig as it lowers me below the cliff’s edge. But I’m not low enough. The ape comes at me with a bulbous hairy arm. I let go. As I fall, I manage to lock my arms around the roots protruding from the cliff face. Out of arm’s reach of the beast, I’m safe for now. But how long can I hold on? Will the ape lose interest? How am I going to get out of this one? Curse this place!

“Coloss! No,” an aloof voice calls.

The roots tremble with vibrations and shrink beneath my grip. I don’t know what’s causing it, but I try to offset it by enhancing their growth. Whoever’s retracting them is outperforming me. But who would be doing this to me? Graytu? The roots slip from my grip and slither back into the cliff face like a burrowing snake. There’s nothing more for me to hold onto. I fall.

“Ugh.” Am I alive? I wiggle my fingers. I wiggle my toes. I tighten my calves then my buttocks. All my body parts seem to be here. A hatchet splits my head in two. I reach for the origin of the pain and carelessly massage it.

I peer between my eyelashes, unwilling to face the blinding light. The heat of the sun radiates over my skin. How long have I been out? What happened to me? Then, the bright light fades. Darkness accompanied by a chilled breeze surrounds me. “Shit. I’m headed to one of Susy’s four hells,” I mutter under my breath.

“Oh no! We are?” shouts a familiar voice.

My eyes snap open to see what I thought was darkness was merely the silhouette of Graytu. He stands over me with his quirky headdress and an even quirkier smile. And his pesky rodent perched restlessly on his shoulder too.

“That is very unlikely,” he continues. “Possible, but unlikely because I am alive. That is what I perceive, anyhow. What do you perceive?”

“What?”

“I thought you said you were worthy?” he asks. “You didn’t listen, did you?”

“Why is it I continue to wake up from an unconscious state with you above me? And with a splitting headache!”

“Oh! Oh! I have an answer for that!”

Graytu’s delight in answering my question is further proof of his queerness. Not that he needs further proof with a pet squirrel perched on his shoulder.

“The first state of unconsciousness was because I knocked you out.” He pulls out a fukiya along with a miniature projectile from a hidden pouch on his leather belt strap. It looks more like a sharp carrot than a dart. He waves it about as he continues explaining. “A tiger tranquilizer tends to have some nasty side effects, you know. I wouldn’t recommend it. I was intending to hit the tiger first, but… Whoops. No permanent damage done, right? Today’s headache, however, is mostly your own doing. Mostly.”

He then looks at his dart more carefully, lifts it to his mouth and crunches down on it with a loud snap. What could possibly drive a man to be so odd? Even more puzzling, why would a man keep carrots in his belt strap?

“What happened?” I continue, attempting to ignore his queerness. “All I remember is a murderous gorilla hollering at me, and then I was plummeting down to feed the fish.”

“Gorilla? No way! But…do you think…quite possibly…a chinchilla? Or…did it have a mammilla, or something similar in the form of a papilla?”

“No! Silence! No! What? No! Are you insane?”

“Yes! No! Maybe so!” Graytu bursts into laughter while my head pounds more and more. He quiets after too long. “That murderous gorilla is in